


Baby Hotline

by Creatortan



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blue Balls, Creampie, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, Dream Sex, Drug Use, F/M, Grandmother/Grandson Incest, Hallucinogens, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Incest, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Voyeurism, twitter thread
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creatortan/pseuds/Creatortan
Summary: Rick wasn't sure what exactly he'd done this time...the cocktail of fancy drugs and booze was half full of shit he wasn't really familiar with but he was pretty sure wouldn't kill him.Well. If the drugs didn't kill him, he was sure this dream would.
Relationships: Diane Sanchez/Morty Smith, Diane Sanchez/Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith, Diane/Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty: The Rickshank Rickdemption), Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	Baby Hotline

**Author's Note:**

> Another thread from my twitter bc I can't stop myself SHDJFK
> 
> Also I had no idea for a title so this one is kind of a stretch LMAO

Rick wasn't sure what exactly he'd done this time...the cocktail of fancy drugs and booze was half full of shit he wasn't really familiar with but he was pretty sure wouldn't kill him. 

Well. If the drugs didn't kill him, he was sure this dream would.

Like any substance-induced dream, this one flung harder into the hallucination side of things than being pleasantly restful. Rick wasn't sure if he was asleep or not, but everything was far too vivid to be reality.

Furthermore, last time he checked, Diane was dead.

Here, though, from the deepest crevices of his subconscious, brought to life by hallucinogens, she looked the same as she did in his memories—all of them, somehow, she flickered like water through time. 

She was beautiful, though, like she was in all of his memories.

He never thought about Diane, caught between his own pride and his desires to keep her memory pure. If he didn't think about her, he could keep her unchanging and perfect and he wouldn't have to think about the cracks in the ideal.

He barely dreamed in the first place. Passing out from drinking tended to do that. 

But even when he did dream of her, it wasn't like this. 

Never like this.

Rick, helpless, felt his cock throb, heard his own moan strangled out of his throat like it'd been choked out of him.

Because here was Diane, beautiful, perfect Diane, and here was Morty.

It looked obscene already, and they hadn't even gotten started. 

They were kneeling on a bed— _the_ bed, from the Sanchez master bedroom, big enough for two—but with Morty's sheets, half stained from before Rick got there, half stained from after.

Rick hated that psychoanalyzing bullshit, but even HE thought this was a little too on the fucking nose. 

The self flagellation had to wait though, because they started touching each other.

Morty was running his fingers through Diane's soft blonde curls, gently pushing her hair from her neck. He trailed his knuckles over her cheek, down her jaw and side of her throat. 

It would've been a tender moment, if not for Rick's raging erection.

They looked at each other fondly, deeply, in that far away, glazed way that only happened when there was an audience to perform for. 

Morty's small hands found the buttons of Diane's blouse. She scooted forward on the bed, closer to him, her fingertips fluttering up his thighs.

Morty's hands faltered. His cheeks turned pink. Diane trailed her hands up and down Morty's thighs. She cooed something at him, softly, taking his hands in her own to help him undo the last of the buttons. 

Her shirt slipped from her shoulders.

Morty's was next—he shivered when Diane moved her hands under his shirt. He let her take it off of him. She softly dragged her nails down his chest, his stomach, and Rick saw how Morty's chest heaved with every panted breath, how his nipples pebbled, how his muscles clenched.

Diane hummed, continuing her ministrations, slowly taking Morty apart piece by piece. Morty unraveled, moaning quietly, sweetly, as she touched him. He kept looking at Rick, the only person in the waking world who'd ever made him feel that way, who ever touched him like that.

Morty sucked his lower lip into his mouth, worrying it cherry red with his teeth. 

Diane, finally, took Morty's face in her hands. He held her wrists with a whimper, his wet lip popping out from between his teeth in a pout. 

They both looked directly at Rick.

Their eyes were sultry—sweet and heady like syrup. They didn't take their gaze off of Rick as they leaned forward towards each other. 

Their mouths met soft and slow and sensual—all pink with their parted lips and rolling tongues.

Rick watched with a dirty groan as his wife licked into their grandson's mouth, as Morty tried to keep eye contact even when his eyelids fluttered and threatened to roll back with pleasure. 

Diane's hands were on Morty's hips, the boy clad only in his tight little boxer briefs.

She pulled Morty into her lap, his skinny legs straddling her thighs. Morty's eyes finally fell shut, as he was helpless but to squirm against her body, his wet little cock rutting on Diane's belly as she kissed him.

Morty moaned, his shaky, inexperienced hands falling to her breasts. He groped her over her bra, cupping her with his palms curiously, squeezing indulgently. Diane hummed, playfully biting down on Morty's lip and tugging him closer with a firm grip on his ass.

Morty yelped. Diane let go of his lip to attach her mouth to his throat. 

"O-oh, oh geez," Morty moaned, the sound intensely familiar to Rick. He watched Diane expertly guide Morty's hips, his clothed cock leaving a wet smear on her skirt.

Morty was starting to sweat, his teenage inexperience beading on his brow, with eager hands he reached behind Diane and unclipped her bra with far more precision than Rick was entirely comfortable with.

The bra was tossed aside and Rick could see how Morty's cock throbbed when he took Diane's bare breasts in his hands. She grinned at him cheekily, arching her back. He massaged her chest, bouncing them, squeezing them together, reverently, almost innocently.

They moved together, Diane leaning back, Morty leaning forward. He took one of her nipples into his mouth as she laid down on the bed. Morty settled between her spread legs, her skirt riding up her thighs.

Diane gasped, her hips rolling up against Morty as he scraped his teeth over her nipple. She ran her fingers through his curls, holding his head to her chest. He looked up at her with his big doe eyes, suckling her nipple and rolling the other one with his curious fingers.

Morty bit down, not hard, but firm enough that Diane moaned, tugging on Morty's hair to pull a matching sound from him. She used her grip on his hair to pull him off of her. Obediently, Morty sat up, waiting for the next command. She started unzipping her skirt.

Morty, eager to help, pulled off his boxer briefs, tossing them aside with Diane's skirt. His little red cock bobbed against his belly, dripping pre. He shuffled back into place, the only thing separating the two of them were Diane's panties.

Rick bit down on his lip so hard he was sure he made it bleed in the real world. 

The little scrap of fabric barely hid her from sight. Morty gasped and shook as he pressed forward, sliding his aching little cock between Diane's clothed pussy lips.

She cooed, her voice encouraging and gentle even as she trailed off with an indulgent moan. Diane took Morty's hands in her own, soothing his trembling with tender kisses to his knuckles, before resting his hands at her hips, slipping his fingers under the band of her panties.

Morty, wide eyed, shuffled down until he was laying between her legs. He inhaled deeply, eyes glazed over with arousal, cock grinding against the sheets. He pulled his grandmother's panties off, slowly, and Rick saw the string of slick connecting his wife's cunt to the fabric.

Rick saw it in Morty's eyes, the look of awe, of hesitation. Morty had the same look the first time he was face to face with Rick's cock. The excitement, the inexperience, the eagerness—Rick swore it was his favorite expression on his grandson, so sweet and needy.

For a moment, Morty just stared, panting heavily, his thumbs on either side of Diane's pussy, spreading her apart. Shit, what a show. Diane always looked a fucking dream in bed, her pussy soft and slick. 

She giggled at Morty, and gently guided his face forward.

Morty started slowly—Rick knew he'd never gone down on anyone else—the tip of his tongue darting out for a taste. He slowly licked up and down, in that curious, exploratory way that always felt like a fucking tease. 

Rick had barely been able to hold back, the first time.

But of course, Diane had the patience of a saint, and merely rubbed her feet up Morty's sides, encouraging and gentle. 

Morty gained confidence, and licked faster, with more of his tongue. Soon, he'd completely buried his tongue in her folds, his nose in her soft, blonde curls.

She was moaning, gripping Morty by the hair to grind down on his tongue. Morty looked dazed, his nostrils flaring as he tried to gulp down air between his desperate licking. She pulled him off, again. Morty whimpered when she pulled him back up.

She looked at Rick again, eyes fierce, almost challenging. 

Diane licked her own slick off of Morty's chin and lips, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth like she wanted to own him, kissing him like Rick kissed him, like Rick kissed her.

She spread her legs, her voice sweet, comforting. She took Morty in hand, his pre dripping like a faucet and slicking her grip. She pumped him once, twice, letting him squirm and writhe under her praise and pleasure. 

Then, Rick watched his grandson slowly slide into his wife.

Rick moaned, deep in his chest like an animal. 

It was horrible. 

It was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

Little Morty gasped and panted, his moans slipping from his mouth without a care. He was balls deep, and Rick knew what it felt like, knew how hot and wet Diane was. Especially for poor Morty, the little virgin he was, she must've felt like pure smooth velvet around his cocklet.

Rick was almost proud. He almost wanted to be there, behind Morty, holding his grandson by the hips to help position him, to feel Morty's curls against his chest as Morty tipped his head back in euphoria. Fuck. To see how Diane would look up at them, fond and sweet and sultry.

To have his hands pushing back her thighs for Morty. 

Rick's cock throbbed again. 

The bed was shaking with the force of Morty's clumsy thrusting. It sounded like the sloppiest porno—the bed creaking, the slick sounds, Morty's keening little whimpers, Diane's soft moans.

With one hand, Diane grabbed Morty's ass, gripping him tight, angling his thrusts like her own personal toy; with her other hand, she started furiously rubbing at her clit, her moans growing louder, more choked off at the end. 

Her hips started pushing back, meeting Morty's.

She guided them into a brutal rhythm, making Morty fuck her deep and hard. He pushed Diane's legs over his shoulders, pushing in harder. He looked to the side, kissing at her ankle, the ticklish sole of her foot.

She was getting close, and so was Morty—Rick could tell. Diane had thrown her head back, and her hips were writhing wildly; Morty's voice was reaching a crescendo, cracking on his loud moans. 

Diane raised her hand from Morty's ass to sharply slap her palm over it. Morty moaned.

She spanked him again, and again, harder and harder. Rick could see the glowing red handprint on Morty's asscheek, and he knew it only brought Morty closer to the edge. Diane was still cooing to him between her own breathy moans.

Diane looked at Rick, her lips parted, and that's when Rick knew she was cumming. Her toes curled, and Rick knew she was tightening like a vice. Morty's hips stuttered, and his little face screwed up as she milked his cock for all it was worth. Morty keened.

They both rode out their orgasms, grinding against each other. It was filthy and gorgeous. They kissed lazily, all open mouthed and slow, more tongue than lips. 

When Morty pulled out, the gush of slick and cum was obscene. Diane held Morty's hand as they panted.

Rick, naive, thought that the dream would finally wrap up and come to an end. 

Then, the bed was gone. 

Then, Diane and Morty were at his feet. 

Then, his cock was out.

Fuuuck...they had the same eyes. They both had the most perfect, soft green eyes, with the prettiest little ring of gold-brown at the edges. He'd never realized it before, never even thought it. But, fuck, Morty got his eyes from his grandma.

And now they were looking up at him.

The two of them, with their twin gazes, lusty, warm, filled with something so deep it shook Rick to his very core. They put their hands on him, their palms trailing over Rick's hips, pulling down the dirty boxers he was suddenly wearing.

Rick's cock bobbed out in front of their faces. Their cheeks were pressed together...Diane always had a little pudge to her face, and Morty hadn't outgrown his babyfat yet. The sight they made, so soft and pleasant against Rick's hard edge.

Diane and Morty, in sync, let their lips brush the tip of Rick's cock, warm and wet and so fucking plush. 

"Rick..." They said, together. 

"Rick..." Their lips barely moved against his cock, fucking diabolical. 

God, their voices. So perfect, like music, saying Rick's name.

"Rick..." They both let their tongues peek out, pressed against Rick's cock, and against each other—like they were letting his dick join their sweet kissing. The thought had Rick dripping pre, which Diane caught on her lip and shared with Morty.

Rick was just about to let go, just about to get his hands on them like he'd been wanting to the whole time. 

Then. 

He woke up.

Rick woke up surrounded by his own garbage, halfway to the trashcan where he seemingly missed and puked over his own shirt. His head hurt like a motherfucker and his cock was hard as iron. 

Rick laid back on the floor, looking up at the dingy ceiling of his shitty little room.

Then, he took his cock in hand, and thought about Morty moaning for his grandma and grandpa, like the disgusting pervert he was. 

It was the best orgasm he'd had in weeks.


End file.
